


Rise and Shine

by timehopper



Series: Sleep Soundly [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Come Kink, Come Marking, Come as Lube, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, M/M, Somnophilia, Titfucking, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timehopper/pseuds/timehopper
Summary: Sylvain wakes up loose and relaxed. Unusually, Claude is still asleep. It doesn't take long for him to figure out why... nor to decide to have some fun with him.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Claude von Riegan
Series: Sleep Soundly [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118021
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	Rise and Shine

**Author's Note:**

> Every year on my birthday I like to write and publish one extremely self-indulgent fic as a gift to myself. Last year it was a [surprisingly sweet and tender Claudevain](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22336783)... and this year it's this filth! 
> 
> This is a follow up to my [kinktober Claudevain somno piece](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899618). A surprising number of people asked if I was going to write a sequel... and originally I wasn't, but the more I thought about it, the more I was like 'yeah, okay, I love somnophilia and I love Claudevain, so why not' and then the ideas just kept jumping around in my brain. Thus... (gestures vaguely at fic)
> 
> Also: **Please mind the tags!** Claude and Sylvain are in an established relationship, but there is no mention of any prior negotiation of this kink (somnophilia) in this fic, other than that they've done this before. I've tagged the fic as "Dubious Consent" for that reason specifically. If that's something you're not comfortable with, I suggest you hit the back button. Otherwise, please proceed with that warning in mind!

It's rare that Sylvain wakes up before Claude. 

Normally Claude rouses at first light, shifting and waking as the sun creeps in through the window. Though he cites meditation as his reason for waking so early, he never actually gets out of bed right away, and always chooses instead to curl up into Sylvain and let himself rest just a little longer. The fact that he doesn't this morning tells Sylvain two things: one, that Claude slept well last night; and two, that he will be dead asleep at least a while longer. 

Sylvain turns over, pulling his discarded sheets with him. He gazes at Claude with sleep-blurry eyes, a fond smile spreading over his face as he takes in the sight before him. Claude is sprawled out on his back, his mouth hanging open and breaths coming short and heavy through it. He isn’t quite snoring, but he's almost there, and if Sylvain hadn't long since grown out of the habit of waking with every little noise, he'd have probably insisted he have his own room by now.

But he has grown out of it, and he hasn't asked for a separate room. Why would he, when every morning he gets to wake up next to the man he loves, the renowned and revered King of Almyra, drooling into his pillow?

Sylvain nearly laughs, but he swallows the sound, unwilling to wake Claude after his apparently rough night. For a moment, Sylvain wonders what it was that kept him up and then knocked him out so soundly – but he gets his answer soon enough when he shifts and sits up in bed. 

"…Oh."

He groans. Something wet drips between his legs and trickles to his thighs. Sylvain's cock twitches as he realizes exactly what it is and memories of last night come flooding back to him. 

Claude pressed up behind him. Claude telling him to go back to sleep.

Claude  _ inside _ him.

"Thought I dreamt that," Sylvain mutters to himself, reaching back and teasing a finger along his entrance. Sure enough, it comes away sticky and wet, just as he expects. "You sneaky little…"

But he cuts himself off with a shake of the head. What's done is done, and clearly, both he and Claude had a good time with it. Sylvain feels loose and relaxed, better rested than he has in weeks, and his smile comes easy as he thinks about what he's going to do in revenge. 

He catches a drip of Claude's cum on the side of his finger and lazily pushes it back into himself. He feels so strangely full, now that he realizes what happened, and he absently thinks of how he doesn't want all that effort to go to waste. 

"You really did a number on me, huh?" His smile turns sly as he pushes a finger inside himself to feel how loose he still is. "Too bad I don't remember it. Seems like you had fun."

He withdraws his finger and wipes it off on the sheets next to him – they'll need cleaned anyway – before moving to straddle Claude's hips and leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth.

Beneath his lips, Claude twitches and turns his head as if seeking more contact, but he stays fast asleep. Sylvain licks into his open mouth, tongue curling behind his teeth; he’s unsurprised when Claude doesn't kiss him back. The lack of response sends a thrill shooting through Sylvain, hot and heavy and settling firmly between his legs. 

He's braced himself on both hands, one on either side of Claude's head, but now he brings one back to wrap around the base of his cock. Sylvain pumps himself lazily, moving from base to tip as if he has all the time in the world. In some ways, he thinks he does – Claude is a heavier sleeper than he used to be, and it takes him ages to fall asleep to begin with. If he’d been up as late as Sylvain thinks, he’s got plenty of time.

And so he savours the moment, taking care to enjoy the feel of Claude’s body, warm and slack and unmoving beneath him. 

Sylvain is hard in no time. He squeezes beneath the head of his dick and runs a thumb over the ridge of his crown, coaxing a drop of precum from the slit. He watches it bead, catches it with his thumb, and slowly, reverently, smears it across Claude’s lower lip. 

"Mm," Sylvain groans, sitting up and grasping his cock with his other hand now, just to relieve some tension. It's almost impressive how much Claude is able to affect him even when he's doing nothing but lying there and taking whatever Sylvain wants to give him, none the wiser to his whims. It’s so rare that Claude gives up complete control, and Sylvain fully intends to make use of that gift now that it’s been granted – even if, technically, Claude doesn’t know he’s granted it.

It’s fine, though. Sylvain knows it is, because Claude trusts him, and he trusts Claude, and it’s not like they haven’t done anything like this before. Sylvain’s loose and aching rim is proof enough of that. 

And besides, Claude has always been adventurous – not to mention forgiving. It’s just one of the many reasons Sylvain loves him. 

He smiles down at his lover as he starts to stroke himself again. Claude is gorgeous, naked and spread out underneath him, chest rising and falling steadily as he slumbers on. The early morning sun illuminates him perfectly, kissing his skin and highlighting every smooth, supple curve of muscle. Sylvain runs a hand over his chest, fingers dipping between his pecs before he cups one and squeezes. 

And oh, Claude is so warm in his hand, so perfect. Sylvain swallows a groan as he shifts forward on his knees again, unable to resist Claude’s unintentional allure. He lets go of himself only when his thighs are parallel with Claude’s ribcage, and he lowers himself down to slide his cock between his lover’s pecs. 

Sylvain wastes no time in moving between them. It’s a little awkward without anything to ease the slide, but that’s okay for now. He keeps his touch light and is careful not to put too much pressure on Claude’s chest for the time being. The sight alone is enough to get him completely hard, and the sensation of being squeezed on either side, even as lightly as this, threatens to push Sylvain into an early orgasm. He doesn’t need any more than this. 

“The things you do to me,” he murmurs, pulling far enough back that only the tip of his cock still touches Claude. Sylvain holds himself there for a moment, drinking in the sight and committing it to memory, and then pushes forward again – slowly, so slowly, so that he can watch as the precum that’s formed at his slit can spread and smear against Claude’s skin. 

It’s not much, but even that is enough to make the next thrust easier, and then the next after that. Soon Sylvain is moving with abandon, squeezing Claude’s pecs harder and tighter as he relentlessly fucks between them. But soon, all too soon, a familiar heat coils within him, and his mind begins to cloud with the need to come, to surrender and let go—

But he doesn’t. With every ounce of self control he has, Sylvain forces himself to slow down. He gazes at Claude through half-lidded eyes, picturing, for a moment, how pretty he would look covered in cum – an image he doesn’t have to try too hard to conjure (given how often he’s seen it before), but one he has to fight desperately not to make a reality. 

He straightens up, letting his tense muscles relax as he takes a deep breath. The fog in his head has subsided somewhat by now, and he’s able to think a little more clearly again – or at least clearly enough to decide what he wants. But even so, Sylvain starts moving again, unable to resist that little bit of friction on his cock. 

He doesn’t let himself indulge too much this time, though. Instead, Sylvain lets go of one of Claude’s pecs so he can reach for the oil on the nightstand (it’s on the opposite corner he remembers putting it on last night, but Sylvain supposes that’s to be expected: Claude hadn’t exactly tried to hide what he’d done, after all). He isn’t sure he needs it – he can still feel Claude’s cum, messy and slick, trying to leak out of him – but Sylvain decides it’s better to be safe than sorry. 

So he removes his other hand from Claude’s chest and douses his fingers in oil. Once they’re sufficiently coated, Sylvain reaches behind himself to take Claude’s cock in hand, but keeps his eyes firmly trained on his lover’s face. 

Claude’s eyelids twitch and flutter as Sylvain slides a slick hand up his cock. His breath hitches, but it evens out and relaxes soon enough, back into a steady rhythm. He hasn’t woken up, Sylvain is sure; Claude may be a good actor, and he may be able to fool most people into believing what he wants them to, but Sylvain knows him well enough by now to be able to pick up on all his little tells. 

"There, that’s it," he breathes on the downstroke. Claude is already starting to firm up under his touch, even as slow as he’s going. Sylvain does his best not to move too quickly, and to keep his grip mostly loose – the intent is to tease, after all, and if he goes too hard he runs the risk of waking Claude up too soon. 

But soon enough, he’s ready. Sylvain drags his thumb down the underside of Claude’s cock and strokes along the base of it, smiling as he feels it twitch in his hand. "Okay, okay," he says, as if he were speaking to Claude while he was awake. "I get it. You’re ready for me, huh?"

He lets go and shifts so that his weight is no longer bearing down on Claude. Sylvain’s hand moves to his rim, and he fingers himself open carefully, spreading the last of the oil on his hand around his entrance, even though doing so helps him confirm that he doesn’t really need to after all. He’s already so loose, so open, so slick from everything they had done together the night before, and everything Claude had done to him while he’d been asleep…

The last of his patience gone, Sylvain removes his hand and leans back so the tip of Claude’s cock presses against his rim. He allows himself a steadying breath before leaning back further and letting it slip into him – Sothis, there’s no resistance at all – and he sinks down, moaning, until it fills him completely. 

"Ahh… f-fuck." He curls forward, hands resting on Claude’s chest so he can steady himself. He can feel Claude twitch inside him, even though he remains asleep, and the thought of that makes Sylvain clench involuntarily. He swears again, quieter this time, and starts to move, hips rolling in short, measured thrusts. 

For a while, that's all Sylvain does. He grinds down on Claude's cock, moving back and forth on it and relishing in the way it feels inside him. It stretches him out perfectly, presses against all his most sensitive spots – and it's so deep, too, so perfect. But it isn't  _ enough.  _ Sure, this pace may get him off eventually, but it won't completely satisfy him.

No, Sylvain needs  _ more _ .

He sits up a little bit, letting Claude's cock slip out just an inch before he moves back down on it slowly, groaning thickly at the slide. It's better, yeah, but he still needs...

He does it again, and again, the arc of his hips growing with each roll. He works his way up gradually, hoping not to stir Claude from sleep, but soon enough that task becomes nearly impossible. Sylvain takes Claude the same way he would if he had been awake: fast, hard, relentless. The only difference is his volume: while normally he'd be speaking, or gasping and moaning with his head thrown back and lips parted prettily, this morning Sylvain makes sure to stay quiet. He bites his lip and swallows his moans, breath only coming in short, harsh bursts through his nose.

But fuck, does he wish he could say something. And more than that, he wants to hear Claude's voice, praising him or chiding him or gloating about what he'd gotten away with last night—

A hand comes up to rest on Sylvain's hip, and Sylvain stills.

He looks down. Beneath him, Claude's eyes are still closed. Sylvain watches them through his own hazy, half-lidded vision, and soon a smile spreads across his lips – one to match the mischievous smirk growing over Claude's.

"Was wondering if you'd ever wake up."

"Mm." Claude stretches beneath Sylvain, his back arching and shoulders popping. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt." He opens his eyes slowly and takes in Sylvain sitting atop him, his brilliant green eyes dragging down the expanse of Sylvain's body and coming to a stop on his full, swollen cock. "Well,  _ good morning _ ."

"Good morning," Sylvain echoes smugly. He drops back down onto Claude's cock, and Claude chokes out a groan, his entire body tensing and twitching. His grip on Sylvain's hip tightens, and his other hand comes up to mirror it.

"Is this about last night?" Claude asks. His voice is strained, still thick with sleep, and his words a little rough around the edges. It may be the sweetest sound Sylvain has ever heard, and he rolls his hips just to hear it again. His wish is quickly granted when Claude lets out a low, broken moan.

"It might be," Sylvain says. "Or maybe I just couldn't resist the sight of you, all cute and vulnerable like that."

"Cute, huh?" Claude repeats the word with a smirk.

"Hot," Sylvain corrects. "You never let your guard down. I like it when you do. And besides..." He bears down on Claude's cock again, clenching around it and reveling in the way Claude's eyes slip shut and his mouth falls open on a silent moan. "You're the last person who can judge me for taking advantage."

Claude laughs, scratchy and breathless, and he opens his eyes again. He smiles up at Sylvain. His fingers flex. It's a tell, a split-second warning – but even with it, Sylvain finds the breath punched out of him as Claude thrusts up into him.

"Oh – oh, Claude, fuck—"

"Thought you could get one over on me?" And oh, does the edge in Claude's voice make Sylvain shudder, make him ache with need. "That I wouldn't wake up?"

He lifts his hand from Sylvain's hip to grab his ass instead. Claude spanks him once, twice, then grips him firmly, nails biting into Sylvain's flesh as he kneads it and spreads him open.

"I – ah – knew you would," Sylvain gasps out. Claude's thrusting into him steadily now, sharply, just the way he likes it. It's hard to get the words out properly – but that's never stopped Sylvain before, and so he persists. "I w-wanted you to."

"Ohh..." Claude bites his lip and exhales around it. "Sylvain—"

"Wanted you to see me," Sylvain continues, more confident now that Claude's rhythm has faltered. "Wanted you to watch me while I took you all the way and came all over your tits."

Claude cries out, the hand on Sylvain's ass coming up to clap over his mouth in a vain attempt to muffle himself. He lifts his hips, toes curling in the sheets, and Sylvain rocks back on his cock – so much deeper now, so hot and thick and wonderful inside him – and rides him for all he's worth.

"Please," Claude whispers, speaking through a gap between his fingers. "Sylvain, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet." Sylvain grins down at his lover, gaze steady even as a bead of sweat trickles past his eyelashes. "Me first."

He reaches down between his legs and takes firm hold of his cock. Sylvain gives it a slow, experimental tug, just so he can see the way Claude's pupils dilate as he watches. He doesn't stay slow, however; after that first stroke, he speeds up, hands moving in time with his hips.

As if entranced, Claude keeps watching him, eyes darting from Sylvain's cock to his chest to his face, never settling in one place for too long. It's as if he can't decide where to look, and is simply doing his best to look everywhere at once.

Sylvain  _ loves  _ it.

Claude's hand drags down his chin. It rests on his chest for a moment, right above the sticky spot Sylvain had left behind earlier, before lifting again to reach for Sylvain’s cock.

But Sylvain catches his wrist and, smiling, shakes his head. "No. Just watch."

And Claude, speechless for once in his life, simply nods. He lets his hands fall to his sides and grips the sheets tightly in them, trying to hold himself together until Sylvain is done. He can't seem to help the twitching of his hips, though: with every downward thrust, Claude lifts to meet him, the movement so small and jerky there's no way it's voluntary.

It's almost as if he's still asleep.

"Fuck!" Sylvain's eyes squeeze shut. His head falls forward so that his chin very nearly rests on his chest, and he comes, cock pulsing in his grip and every muscle in his body seizing and relaxing in short, overwhelming waves. He hisses through his teeth and fights to open his eyes, to watch as his cum splatters over and paints Claude’s chest— 

And oh, what a sight it is.

Claude flinches when the first spurt lands on him. It has the wonderful involuntary side effect of his cock hitting even deeper inside Sylvain, which just makes his orgasm all the better. It’s the hardest he’s come in a long time – hard enough that Sylvain wonders if he’s just imagining how good it feels. But the evidence that it’s not all just in his head is laid out right in front of him: Claude’s chest is covered in cum, thick stripes of it splashed over his pecs and gathered in the divot of them. A few stray flecks have even managed to reach his neck, and there's even some in his  _ beard— _

A shiver wracks Sylvain's body, so intense he thinks he may have just come a second time. Beneath him, Claude groans, broken and breathy, and his fingers flex and clench in the sheets.

"Sylvain—" he chokes out, "please—"

Sylvain nods, weak smile breaking out over his face. "Yeah. Okay, baby, I'm ready, you can..."

But he doesn't even get a chance to finish the sentence. Claude's hands fly up to Sylvain’s waist and he lifts Sylvain up, holding him firmly in place so he can ram up into him, over and over and over again. Sylvain cries out, overstimulated and oversensitive, but he does his best all the same to stay still, stay tense and tight and give Claude what he wants—

"Ah!"

And there it is. Claude's head falls back as he comes, his rhythm stuttering sharply as he releases himself inside Sylvain for the second time since they'd initially gone to bed. He keeps moving, hips slamming against Sylvain's ass, the sound of their skin meeting and the wet noise of Claude's twitching cock moving in and out of him ringing loud and vulgar in Sylvain's ears. It's perfect, it's overwhelming, and Sylvain can't help but laugh, breathlessly and incoherently, at the sensation of it.

But Claude slows soon enough, all the pent-up energy he'd been holding back dissipating in one fell swoop. He falls back to the bed, limp and relaxed, and pulls Sylvain to him in the same moment that Sylvain stretches and leans up to kiss him. It's the first kiss they've shared since Claude had woken up, and something about that sends a thrill down Sylvain's spine. That they'd fucked so hard without any real contact, any slow, careful intimacy...

His thoughts slow and vanish completely as Claude deepens the kiss, hand cupping Sylvain’s jaw and tongue sliding past his lips to probe the inside of his mouth. Sylvain meets him lazily, humming as he tilts his head for better access. Claude's beard scratches a little against his chin; when Sylvain moves, he can feel the mess in it, and it draws a moan from him, loud and throaty—

Claude laughs against his mouth. "Don't tell me you want to go again so soon." He pulls back, licking his lips and breaking the string of saliva still connecting them. Sylvain sees it and shudders again, and against his will, his cock stirs with interest, twitching against Claude's belly – although he can't tell if the wetness he feels there is from his earlier orgasm or if he's leaking more precum in anticipation of yet another round.

But in the end, he shakes his head. "I don't think I could if I tried," Sylvain says.

And he means it, too. As enticing as Claude looks, with his flushed cheeks and sleep-mussed hair and hazy, satisfied eyes, Sylvain is simply too exhausted to keep going. His muscles protest every movement, even as he slowly lifts himself off Claude and reaches behind himself to catch what's leaking out of him.

"Ugh," he groans, face twisting in mild annoyance as he wipes his fingers off on the sheets. "I feel disgusting. This is why I don't let you come inside me."

Claude shrugs, looking for all the world like a satisfied cat. "Seems to have paid off this time, though."

"Brat," Sylvain huffs, despite the grin Claude’s words have drawn from him. He flicks Claude's forehead affectionately; Claude catches his wrist, presses his lips to Sylvain's palm, and kisses him gently.

"I'll clean you out in the bath," he murmurs, half an apology and half an offer of recompense.

"You’d better," Sylvain says back.

"Oh, come on." Claude laughs and rolls his eyes, then pulls back far enough he can flash his lover a proper winning smile. "It's not that bad. You probably made just as much a mess of me."

He gestures to himself, hand hovering over his neck, his chest, and his stomach, all still sticky with spend. Sylvain laughs, then rolls to the side to lay supine beside Claude atop the sheets.

"...Worth it," he says. And if it means having Claude’s hands back on him, slowly running over his body as he carefully washes him clean, then it really will be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and think you might like to see more, have a chat, or would like to get to know me, please check out my twitter [@tim3hopp3r](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r).
> 
> And if you would like to find out how to support me, I have a handy list of links right [here](https://twitter.com/tim3hopp3r/status/1355219789560471554). Please check it out! I wouldn't be able to do this without people like you supporting me. ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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